


By sleight of hand

by se7ensecrets



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet, Humor, Sex Games, Sexual Content, Short One Shot, Simultaneous Orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28827201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/se7ensecrets/pseuds/se7ensecrets
Summary: A friendly rivalry between lovers can get so out of hand sometimes."She could feel the light quiver in her breathing, hoped it wasn't too evident—as pointless an endeavor it may be with Seven, who was capable of detecting even the subtlest of changes. Her only hope was that her partner was in just a perilous state as she, and that it would go unnoticed, knowing full well if Seven were to be tipped off it would be a swift and sudden end for this weathered captain."
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	By sleight of hand

Their individual hands were tucked greedily between each other’s thighs, hips thrusting in time to the movement of their near tireless fingers; legs entwined and caressing.

Breaths mingled, differing shades of blue eyes deadlocked, each woman silently refusing to be the first one to break their imaginary contract.

A light sheen of sweat had broken out and pebbled at Janeway's temples, her traitorous body beginning to answer the call of ecstasy. The temptation to let it have it's way mounted within her, bordering on intoxicating as she tried to resist. She could feel the light quiver in her breathing, hoped it wasn't too evident—as pointless an endeavor it may be with Seven, who was capable of detecting even the subtlest of changes. Her only hope was that her partner was in just a perilous state as she, and that it would go unnoticed, knowing full well if Seven were to be tipped off it would be a swift and sudden end for this weathered captain.

_You have to think of something else —anything—absolutely anything but this._

_Species 8472... The Phage._ She visibly grimaced, felt herself wither at the remembrance of their decay. _Not bad, but perhaps something that doesn't kill your libido entirely. How about my pitiless replicator that materialized yet another cup of lukewarm coffee this morning. Or the Borg Quee —Ohh god! _

Janeway gave a half stifled gasp and tensed at the unexpected rush of pleasure, it having coursed through her unbidden. She quickly exiled the wicked thought.

_Of all the people —! We are never to discuss this with anyone.  
_

Despite how difficult it was to becoming to concentrate, Seven appeared to be in a much better position. It stood her in good stead that she was privy to information that allowed her to know that simply wasn't the case, long since familiar with the former Borg woman's facade of composure in it's varying shapes. The narrowing of her steely blues gave her away, lovely wisps of loose fair hair lightly billowing with every concentrated breath. Janeway wondered just how far along she was. If the substantial amount of moisture her fingers were currently saturated in where anything to go by, she would estimate Seven was only just trailing behind her. Victory was not yet out of sight.

A renewed vigor found Janeway, however counterintuitive it could prove to be, and commanded the waning strength of her hand to work it's magic in a manner she knew Seven would positively respond to.

As if on cue, Seven's legs shook and Janeway weakly grinned ahead at her, cockiness out to strut as she dared the other woman to upstage her.

When Seven retaliated in kind, those skilled fingers playing her in just the right way, Janeway broke their voluntary staring competition to screw her eyes shut, choked back a groan that ended up sounding like the oxygen had been stolen right from out of her chest; the continuous onslaught of sensation coming in wonderful, merciful waves of pure pleasure.

_Lets be honest, if this doesn't go your way, it's been one of your better losing games. There won't be any dejected walking home in the pouring down rain after this one.  
_

She couldn't be sure of how she did it, but she managed to stamp out the fires once more, steered her way out as the tempestuous abyss veered out of view, possibly for the last time. When she dared open her eyes, Seven greeted her with a weak lift of her metallic brow, a subtle flash of arrogance in her expression that let Janeway know she wasn't at all unaware of what she was doing to her; how hard she was fighting this.

Janeway hated how irresistible she found that to be, would never dream of telling Seven, but something told her she won't ever need to.

It may have been a fool's game, but that hadn't quelled her need to give this everything she had until the inevitable end. In a last blasted effort _—_ in a blaze of salacious glory _—_ Janeway doubled her efforts and thrust her hips at Seven, latched her mouth onto the exposed column of her porcelain neck and sucked greedily, gnawed hungrily.

Suddenly her vision began to haze as she expended the last of her energy, Seven clutching, clawing at her back and grunting, the both of them writhing and riding each other to the Alpha Quadrant and back to the Delta again, neither of them caring to hide how they affected the other any longer.

It seemed they were in for a rare simultaneous collision, and with that prospect on the table, along with dizzying want, Janeway let herself go, the orgasm breaking over her body, pooling until there was no more.

When it ceased, Janeway recalled the heavenly notes of Seven's own orgasm crashing against her ear, felt her lightly twitch under her fingers. They disentangled their limbs to outstretch about the bed on their respective backs, mirroring each others sated and depleted demeanor.

“Should we conclude it was a tie or are you just crazy enough to go again for a more clear result?" Janeway asked, lazy and with a head that still felt as if Voyager's gravity had been disabled. She unconsciously wrung her hand out, the muscles more tense than she believed possible, not at all an embarrassing thing to see the Doctor about giving a muscle relaxing hypospray to.

Still attempting to regulate her breathing, Seven turned to her with heavy lidded eyes. “You finished 1.9 seconds before I did. I am the winner."

Disbelief engulfing her, Janeway shot up. “But you cheated!” She wasn’t going to mention it, was willing to let it slide if it were declared a tie. That, and she was bone tired, but now the metaphorical gloves were off.

“I did nothing of the sort.” Seven evenly stated.

Janeway leaned over and grabbed Seven’s hand, her Borg enhanced one _—_ the culprit in this, and gave her a pointed look that would scare any Ensign into resigning. “You made them pulse. That’s cheating.” She shook it for added emphasis before Seven took it back into possession.

"I fail to see how having the tactical edge is cheating."

Baffled, Janeway blinked as she tried to formulate a rebuttal, the fog of exhaustion still drifting in front of her. In the meantime, Seven drew her into her arms to position them in a cuddling formation, her head guided to be tucked under Seven's chin as if it were routine.

The disquiet in her chest wouldn't lie, though, and Janeway freed her head to address Seven once more. "Don't think this is the end of it. If you intend to play dirty, I want a rematch."

Janeway's brows furrowed in bemusement when Seven gave a soft huff, an air of light amusement and arrogance taking over; a response rarely seen or given by the often stoic woman.

"I do not believe your chances at victory will be any greater with those advantages in place."

"Oh, so you agree that what you did was an advantage," Janeway countered.

"Yes, it was an advantage, but it is also apart of my unique biology. Possessing higher strength or having more skill than your opponent in certain areas are all advantages, but they are not grounds to disqualify," Seven smoothly argued.

With the spirit of competition still swelling in Janeway's chest, she pressed Seven down and climbed on top of her, mischief entering her eyes. "If you're going to paint it in that kind of light, then advantage may not be cheating, but it does create an unbalanced match."

Seven ground her back molars before grabbing Janeway by her modest hips, placing her back at her side with an ease and gracefulness that caused her to feel smaller than she was.

"Would you rather I not use my abilities, not rise to my full potential?"

It was Janeway's turn to huff, and not in the way that she had wanted to be huffing. She wasn't about to entertain a debate over Borg biology versus her own, or be made to feel inferior by her simple human capabilities. This certainly wasn't a game of Velocity, an area were she had more control and managed to come out on top _—_ at times by the skin of her teeth; as Seven's skill increased with every session. She wondered, with a small sense of dread, how long it would be before she'd be permanently on her back on that particular playing field.

After a moment, Seven continued to try and assuage her bristling ego, her expression yielding.

"Do not be upset. This is a benefit the both of us can enjoy _._ Together. I will not hold my minor victory over you," Seven said with a good-natured warmth.

Unable to resist the charms hidden in those oceanic eyes, Janeway relented and let herself be guided back under Seven's chin. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a half sigh escaped as she let herself truly relax after their little private excursion.

"However," Seven added, a barely there reluctance to her even timbre that was most unusual.

Janeway's eyes opened to slits.

"I admit to having re-calibrated my cybernetics to increase the vibration rate before we began."

"Seven!" Janeway reared back, teetering on scolding.

To say Janeway's annoyance had died on her very lips was an accurate telling. Seven tactfully captured her mouth before she could respond in full, not an unwelcome move, as that newly re-calibrated hand began to roam across the plains of her naked back, down the curve of her bottom and slid over the swell of her hip. Janeway groaned when it reached for the flesh that laid between her legs, that wonderful hum beginning in a curious sequence.

"Oh, alright." Janeway husked as they parted lips, side smirk emerging. "You win."

**Author's Note:**

> I found this trapped in the deep depths of my drafts so I thought I'd set it free. Seven's Borg hand serving as a vibrator may be an old trope, but one that can also be quite amusing. Thank you for reading! (And apologizes if there's any errors, I'll find them eventually)


End file.
